Palmer's second installment in Terra Ignota holds nothing back, as the illusion we had of an perfect peace hard fought despite the flaws of humanity is ripped away to reveal the deep corruption rooted at the heart of the globe's political system. Despite the dystopia that is revealed to be the world of Terra Ignota, this story will have you both hopeful and sad, angry and jubilous. You will in fact experience the seven surrenders set up by Too Like the Lightning, and you will understand why they were necessary. The true players at the Hive game are revealed, and the heroes and martyrs will line up for you to judge them by the time you close the book.
Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
4.25
This was an honestly very good read. I will be honest, the first half doesn't necessarily drive the story, but remains engaging in it's political intrigue and rhetoric, and the necessary world building and clues that lend to when the mystery and action truly begins.
For a good part of the book, you will feel as confused as Mahit, as she attempts to understand the situation(s) she finds herself in without the aid that she was promised she would have. At first, this feels detrimental to the progress of the story, but upon finishing the story it's obvious that it's necessary that we the readers feel just as confused as Mahit does, to understand that truly she can trust very little people around her, nor can she have a full grasp of the situation until she receives her first concrete answers.
But the point of sci-fi stories are to impact an allegory, lesson, and story that informs us the reader of our current moment. Martine accomplishes this task using cultures and lifestyles so unlike our owns, removed by millennia because of European conquest and colonization, only to still impact those central themes in the discussion and progression of the story. The never-ending hunger of empires is something instantly recognizable in this story, and how they encroach on the sovereignty, economies, and cultures of independent nations only trying to survive. To put it plainly: the world you will be thrust in is not America or the West, but an age old empire that deserves to stand tall today, and still flawed by the same ambitions of our empires today. If there is nothing else you take from the story, take that central theme, and see how it extends into every little interaction, thought, action, and word described.
You will see that I said the cast of characters in this book are not diverse. And you will ask "why, Reid made sure to color every other character some shade under the sun to get that golden stamp of approval." Except that's all she did. She treated people of color like a canvas to color any shade she wanted to serve a narrative that centers Western feminist ideals at the expense of women of color.
The book is very good despite this running flaw throughout the story, and I did enjoy many elements of Reid's ability to create a compelling drama representative of the seediness in Hollywood life. The book shines in these moments, without Reid's lackluster attempts to pretend she gets people of color. The use of newspaper clippings and articles to mark when and where we are in the story was a marvelous idea, and gave the book a feeling of knowing the truth and seeing the media's twist on it. That was very good.
But I'll list why I won't rate this any higher than 2.5, and even that is higher than the 1 start I wanted to give this book after the ending Reid subjects you to at the end:
As stated before, centering Western feminist ideals at the expense of women of color. Now, I'm not saying this to be some kind of "anti-woke" warrior bullshit. The points and themes that Reid portrays are inherently true and not wrong at all. If anything, I found Evelyn's character as an unashamed woman who fought to excel in a world ruled by white men to be exactly what you would expect of a woman of her time. A maverick against the machine that attempted to box her. The problem is the fact that her bullying and manipulation of the women of color in the story to make that point is inherently harmful, but alas representative of white feminism even to this day. Reid's portrayals of Monique as somehow "helpless" without the influence of Hugo is deeply upsetting in a way I can only describe as hurting my soul every time she does this. Making Monique out to be inexperienced and insecure due to her biracial identity, only to be saved by the "radical" ideas that Evelyn impacts on her does not make the narrative nuanced, it just makes it racist.
And speaking of race, using POC to get that stamp of "diversity" when their race had nothing to do with the story or was actually harmful and misrepresentative of race narratives from POV of people of color. Right from the beginning, Reid makes it clear what she thinks a confident, black women would look like: an impatient woman who where's bright colors and big jewelry. How does using a stereotype caricature for your sole Black woman make you anti-racist? Someone, please let me know. And Monique, a biracial character who states explicitly "that while I look Black, I am biracial" and goes so far to explain "I remember thinking that the fact that he was white made me think he would never tell me I wasn't Black enough." These surface level takes may seem nuanced, but really just portray a character uncomfortable and unwilling to own her Black identity and would rather do nothing with it or lean closer to her "white side." And if you don't believe, the only story of discrimination that is described by Monique through Reid's writing is when her cousin said she wasn't black enough as a child. Monique's insecurities with her biracial identity is never actually resolved, but is rather used as the vehicle to explain Evelyn's struggles with defending and explaining her bisexual identity to people (look back at point 1). I don't even want to get into Grace being presented as Asian and that's all that is contributed to her character, which would've been okay if not for the harmful tropes and takes that Reid had already used in the book by then.
I'll avoid talking about her use of LGTBQIA+ characters in her story, since that's not my place to speak, although there were times where I cringed at how she portrayed them: "We were four beards." What the actual fuck, why would you ever write that. Additionally, her suggesting and even encouraging a lack of journalistic integrity on the part of Monique for a good portion of the book was distressing and unrealistic of ethical journalism in the field. All in all, this book was good and that's what pisses me off more at the end of the day. It's such a good book until you are rammed in the head with frankly distasteful and harmful stereotypes and tropes passed off as "nuanced narratives" in a book that ultimately could have just had white characters abound.
I love how Hurston centers the life of Janie, representing the independence of black women, through her marriages and maturation in the idea of romance and ultimately life. Janie does not settle for the logic and thinking of her grandmother, Nanny, when it comes to love. Janie's self-made thoughts on how to love and be loved grinds against the beliefs of her community and elders, and she proves to be more alive for it all. A heartbreaking story, true, but in a way that differs from what I've read from other classic black authors. A story that leaves one happy to have read and known Janie, and happy despite the grief you will feel in this story.
This tale evokes an incredible grief and sadness for days gone by and lives lost, and as Morrison states in her foreword, does not shy away from the material reality of the American Black pre-Civil Rights era. At the same time, the point of this story is not it's sociopolitical reality, but rather the life and death of the friendship between two black girls become women by the end of this book. This heartbreaking tale will allow you to ponder about the change anyone has seen and is seeing in life. This is a book to simply sit and read, a tale that requires only your attention to enjoy and feel for Sula and Nel.